How Do You Ground a CEO?
by Keruha Digifox
Summary: Seto Kaiba is trying to pinch himself out of a dream. How are they alive? It's impossible! But his biggest problem is how the heck he's suppose to tell them why he went from their baby to a ruthless corporate monster while they were dead. Hyacinths maybe?
1. Longing

Umm… Can't recall where I got this idea from. Oh well. Um… Darn. Nothing to say and it is such a nice story opening too.

Disclaimer: Seto, Mokuba, and anything Yu-Gi-Oh is not owned by me. I honestly don't know why people keep asking. DO I LOOK FAMOUS? No!

:-:oOo:-:

Once upon a time, there was family consisting of a father, a mother, and their baby boy. This little humble family was not rich nor were they famous, but they were a happy one nonetheless. Well, at least as happy as a family could be. Life, as we all know, isn't chockfull of candy treats and butterflies. There are the stresses of work, other people, and staying on the track of your goals. However, despite the small bumps that life brings, this family was still a content one through and through. The teacher and his wife loved each other greatly, but both made sure that their affection was shared with their darling son. He was their prized treasure, and like any other couple blessed with a child, he was more valuable to them than all the treasures the world could hold. They were not afraid to die if it assured them they're child would grow up happy and live an honorable life.

Of course, the parents were confident that they would have a long-lived family, so on that basis, they made merry predictions of where life would take them. They formed guesses to where their child would be as he grew up. They decided he could maybe take up a career as a teacher to follow in his father's footsteps, or maybe he would be the brave sheriff that made sure dirty deeds didn't go unpunished. Wherever he ended up in life, they were convinced he would make the right choices. That was their plan and their hopes.

But plans, no matter how much hope they are backed up with, do not always come out right…

:-:oOo:-:

It was a snowy morning to say the least. Any window surface that revealed itself to the winter air provided a canvas on which nature etched its frost. However, if nature had given care to look through these canvases before leaving its crystalline motifs, it would have probably been struck with awe. On the inside surface of four particular windows, there was a luxurious room. It was decorated richly in expense from handcrafted silk rugs to intricate lampshades. As for the room itself, it was surprisingly large. Even a corner of the room proved useful as a small personal library, holding a large display of neatly arranged books and a cushioned chair to sit in. The pride of this bedroom however, came from a king sized bed centered between the four windows. The sheets and pillows were equivalent with the rest of room's wealth, shaded artfully with tones of blue, white, and silver, but the one thing that set them aside was their concealment of a young man. He lied peacefully in his bed, almost dead-like with only the raising and lowering of his stomach to prove he was still alive. For now he was protected from the cold outside and having to meddle his daily life. Unfortunately, that bliss was going to end with two seconds.

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!

It had come. The day had come. A hand roughly shut off the alarm clock with a rather harsh hit, and the sheets rippled. Only for a minute did they stop, because of the teenager's own reluctance to greet the day. However, unlike many other people his age, the pull of his schedule was something he embraced, and could not delay for long. His feet slid off the side of his bed, and brought cue to let the annoyances begin.

He prepared for the day like any normal teenager: Shower, hair, clothes, teeth, breakfast, and greeting his younger sibling… Then checking stocks, wondering why Ms. Ito hadn't brought him his coffee yet, checking more stocks, checking his business calendar, getting his own coffee, rebuking Ms. Ito, threatening to fire Ms. Ito, commanding Ms. Ito to clean the living room rug, drinking his coffee, putting down the coffee half-finished, and finally getting his brother to come down for school. When the two finally set out into the snowy abyss outside, a sleek black vehicle was already waiting for them. Upon the duo's sight the back door was opened by a slightly shivering chauffer for them to enter. It was quick transfer and once they were inside, the driver was eager to get in the warm vehicle himself.

As for the drive to school, it was a smooth one like always and quick too. Then again, that's the reason this driver hadn't been fired yet. He made the vehicle's first stop in front of an elementary school where the younger of the two was supposed to depart. When he opened the back door for him however, he found a bit of concern between the two brothers.

"You're positive that I won't have to waste my time as a substitute for this one will I?" the eldest asked, his usually calm voice stained with a slight sense of exhaustion.

"Huh? For wh…? Oh… Don't worry, I'm sure everybody will understand," was what he got as a reply. It was clear that answer didn't satisfy him, but he didn't care much for interrogating further. There really was no reason to get involved in something that irked him when it could just as easily be ignored.

"Hmph…"

"Seeya Seto," the boy chimed. He ran out with no further response from his brother, the chauffer retook his place back in the driver's seat, and the limousine sped off again on course for Domino High.

The now lonely passenger gave himself nonchalant confidence about this day. It was all going to blow over, just like any other day as long as his younger sibling held his breath about what happened during school. Leaving the subject on that, he moved to more important items to think about. Before he knew it, the vehicle was in sight of his own stop. He gripped the hold of his schoolbag, and prepared himself to exit.

TH-THUMP!

"What the hell?"

The chauffer slammed on the brakes, immediately parking the car next to the sidewalk. Like always, he got out and made sure to open the back door of the vehicle for the teenager. Seto stepped out, and to his horror, he heard the distraught cries of a female. "Oh my god! My baby! My precious baby!"

'Shit!' Seto thought. He rigidly looked upon the others, mostly fellow classmates, who had witnessed the accident, before turning to the driver. The man backed up, pale as a ghost.

"S-sir, I didn't see…" he stuttered pathetically, but this situation was beyond the redress of excuses. The boy, although fear for his wealth nipped at him, slowly began to creep toward the rear of the limousine. He watched in dread as the panicking girl threw herself onto the icy street. She dropped to her knees, and held up her injured child, who now was a gruesomely crushed, red… wooden reindeer mask?

"There, there.. We'll fix you up… good as new… O-okay?"

The teenager had to stand there and raise an eyebrow to register the idiocy of the moment, and he wasn't even going to begin making sense of what a mask was doing in the middle of the road. He sneered and turned his back. All that tension and care he so kindly offered had been given to a failure, but at least he was safe as far as a lawsuit went. That was all that mattered.

The other witnesses began to mobilize once again, chatting and heading to class, as they lost interest in the event. The girl and her mask left to get some emergency supplies from the art room, and the chauffer, relieved of murder charges, drove off. Seto was still around though, and even if the students were back to their lively selves, they knew better than to cross paths with him. The smart ones made sure to define a direct path to the school entrance for the guy where only the defiant or naïve held their places. He wasn't about to deal with insignificant specks like them though. As a matter of fact, Seto already had a victim on his mind.

He traveled the labyrinth of the school hallways, and landed himself at the open door of his first period classroom. His left foot fell halfway through the passageway of the door when he heard the voice he had planned to search for.

"Ah man, I can't believe this! What am I going to do?"

"We warned you not to agree to it, Joey."

"But I only missed ONE problem, and we didn't even go over court cases!"

"I'm sorry to say it, but I think Kaiba may have already known that question was going to be on the test so he made the bet on that particular one."

"That dirty cheat! Grr… Dang it!" A deviant smile curled Seto's lips. So Wheeler decided to get his test results early, huh? Right now it's not looking too good for the unfortunate blonde. He should have learned by now not to question Seto Kaiba's supreme authority. Especially, when he declared that unwise challenge against him. It was a simple test; Joey only needed to score a 100 on their latest government quiz to prove he wasn't, as Seto so bluntly put it, the failure of the class. Of course, no challenge is exciting without a wager, and the ante for this bet was not money, but self-esteem. The loser had to audition for an upcoming winter-themed comedy play, in costume and all. Maybe that didn't sound so bad. However, on Seto's win, Joey would have no choice but to try for the part of a stray dog who lost its master. As for the opposite result, Joey's win, Seto would have to try for the part of a mediocre penguin villain who bumbled with every mischievous plan. This morning though, had decided the winner.

Taking pride in his easy win, Seto stepped the rest of the way into the room. On the way to his desk, he shot Joey a condescending glance out of the corner of his eye. "I hope you brought your flea collar…" he mocked, using his rights of winning, and before Joey could even clench his teeth at the jerk, he had already passed and sat down.

"He was there the whole time!?" Joey yelled. Eventually the poor loser of the bet, clenched his fist, charring Seto to ashes with his eyes. "Grah! I can't believe it…"

:-:oOo:-:

Now for the younger of the two siblings, the one set to take the worst of what this day had in store. He looked around the hallways at the other kids his age, chatting and bubbly. Occasionally a teacher walked by to deliver something or whatnot, making the place feel comforting as ever. So far he didn't see any adults that did not look like they worked at the school, but even then, he did he was pretty confident it would be no big deal. His life was at the top, alongside his big brother. He was as happy as a kid could be.

"Hey Mokuba!" a boy called out. He and an admirable amount of other kids came charging up behind the young brother. To allow them to catch up, Mokuba halted and turned around to greet the group with a somewhat cocky smile. Being vice-president of a large gaming really did wonders for his popularity in school. It was no wonder kids would always swarm to his table during lunch hour. They would challenge him to games, nag him to let out sneak previews of future Kaiba Corp attractions, and beg him to tell how his big brother won his latest duel. Unfortunately, it was sad to say, that most of these groupies were only his friend for those reasons. Few seemed to pry into his life, and what he liked and disliked. Nevertheless, it set in as the norm for Mokuba so he truly had no problems with it.

"Hey, is your brother going to be here since its Parent Career day?" the kid excitedly asked, seeming to bounce as he talked. Yep, Mokuba knew that was coming.

"It would be sooo cool if we could meet him!"

"Yeah!"

"I want to see his blue eyes!"

Mokuba sighed and waved his hand in front of him to grab the attention of the excited crowd. Once they quieted down, he spat out the harsh truth. "Sorry guys, but my brother's not coming. He's just way too busy."

"Aww… But I want to see him!"

"You said he'd be coming!"

"I said I would ask him. I didn't say he'd come," Mokuba corrected, with an undertone of annoyance.

"What is he so busy with?"

"He has school," he answered, "Besides this is Parent Career day."

"Oh come on, we all know you don't have any parents, and your step-dad kicked the bucket two years ago."

Now this statement annoyed Mokuba quite a bit. Then again, maybe annoyance was an understatement. "HEY! Who said that?" he snapped. What insolent person thought it would be okay to speak of his orphaning in that kind of manner? He scanned the crowd, but his snap definitely sent that one cowering because nobody stood out. After a while of scared silence, nothing seemed to happen so the offended gave up. Now slightly set off in a bad mood, he decided to leave for class. The bell should be ringing soon anyway. A few kid's naively attempted to follow their great 'leader' in his escape, but were shoved back by the testy glances he shot over his shoulder.

Sadly, once their center of attention had went of sight, they turned to chat among themselves. Nobody truly cared enough to go after their idol, and most worked on the assumption he would be over it by lunchtime.

:-:oOo:-:

Today was Parent Career Day; It was a chance for students' moms and daddies to come over and share their work experiences with the budding generation. Students sat at their desks, either sticking up their nose in pride, or shrinking in embarrassment as their parents took turns covering everything from flipping hamburgers to bringing down an escaped convict. The range of jobs covered was simply amazing, but the range of parents were even more amazing. Even the step-parents of children who lost their biological ones, whether through death or divorce, joined in on speaking.

To this, poor Mokuba felt painfully singled out. The only reason a few other kids didn't have parents present was because they couldn't make time out of their schedules for it. To take his mind off it though, he doodled on a sheet of notebook paper. Although they were far from professional, Blue Eyes roared and flew within the boundaries of the page. Other kinds of monsters found their image sketched on the paper as well. As he did this, he failed to realize the learning opportunity in front of him. At least this was so until, the learning opportunity went searching for him.

"How about you?"

"Huh?" Mokuba raised his head from his escapade, sensing the finger pointed at him. He hadn't been paying attention to make a fair comparison, but this father was dressed pretty nicely. A dove had its perch on his other hand and cooed with mutual interest.

"Can you name one famous magician in our history?"

"Harry Houdini…?" Mokuba asked, feeling rather awkward for answering.

"Ah yes, Harry Houdini…" As the person went on about the named magician, Mokuba felt rather sick to his stomach. He wished Seto was there. Not that he was dependant on him or anything, but it would have made him a lot more comfortable. He started drawing the ear of an angry feral imp when something dreadful happened. The point to his pencil snapped. Now the preteen was without the ability to draw, and forced to do something else to keep his mind occupied. He looked at the clock, he looked at the ceiling. Even the least menial would do, as long as it wasn't the stage in front of him. Despite his efforts however, the front of the classroom kept stealing his attention. After a while, he decided to give in, and watch like all the other kids.

The father that had asked him the magician question made his closing statements, and squeezed his way down the aisle, accompanied by an applause. It died down once the name of the next parent was called, and the man had took a seat. Although most everybody's attention was now on the new speaker, Mokuba kept his focus on the magician out of sheer curiosity. The person knelt down next to his daughter, and held his dove out for her to pet, which she did. After a few light strokes on the dove's head however, her dad raised a finger to say 'wait a minute'. Once the girl withdrew her petting finger, he fully covered the dove with his hands. Upon their reopening, the dove was no longer but a plush toy. The toy was held out for her, and eagerly she snatched it, rotated it to marvel at the gift, and lunged forward to hug him. The small corporate vice-president steered his attention away, and laid his chin on his arms. This was going to be a long afternoon.

:-:oOo:-:

"Hey Seto, what were our parents like…?" he asked, finally breaking the silence of the limousine ride home.

"Mokuba?" Seto asked, a bit taken back.

Mokuba hesitated a bit, somewhat afraid where it would get him, but proceeded onward. "Mom… Dad… You know."

Seto tried to face his glare at something else while thinking of a reply. It was clear he didn't want to answer this question let alone hear it, even though he knew it was bound to happen. Eventually he came to reply, "Why?"

"Just curious…" his little brother answered, although with an air of disappointment.

"Hmph… Don't ask about them again," Seto warned, showing a bit of his anger towards the questioner.

"Sorry, it's just with Parent-"

"I know… Look, just because the other snot-twerps at school still had time to show theirs off doesn't mean you have to bring them up…" Seto said harshly, before turning his head to look out the window. Thus, the boy was really regretting what he tried to get into. He lowered his head, feeling even more singled out than he felt at school, but his big brother wasn't an entirely bad person. Calmly he redressed the anger in his own way of comfort, "Don't think about them, kid…"

"Sorry…" Mokuba said again, ending. Now that the conversation was dead and the lesson was learned, he had to find something else to focus his thoughts; something other than that forbidden subject. He stared out the window and into the white abyss outside it's boundaries. After the blizzard died down, the snow looked like it would be fun to play in. As a matter of fact, normal kids would probably be out there, throwing snowball fights, building snowmen. Thoughts wandered around how much fun it would be to join them, but better yet was the dream to do such activities with his brother. Ever since Gozaboro, they rarely did anything special together, unless you counted the dozen times they had to save their behinds from Seto's surprising amount of enemies. If only there was a special week where could just have fun like old times. This dream was a seemingly vain dream sadly. His dear brother had already practically sold himself to his company. It's always business meeting that, duel monsters this, money, complaints, yelling, etc.

Mokuba had a job too though. Being Seto's little brother, he was vice-president of the corporation. People with questions, complaints, suggestions, came to him almost as much as Seto if Mr. CEO wasn't around. It wasn't that he disliked this rank and duty, it was just… some times he wanted to break away from it all. He wished to just be a normal, broken, but happy kid with a normal, broken, but happy family for maybe at least day or so.

He finally turned away from the window to look at Seto. While he had been busy staring off into his thoughts, his brother had received a call on his cell. He talked rather calmly to who was no doubt one of his more trusted employees until…

"WHAT!? What do you mean the offer didn't go through!?"

'Well…' Mokuba thought, 'At least we have the broken part down…'

:-:oOo:-:

Umm…. That's that. Heh, you won't believe that I hesitated on uploading this because I couldn't think of what to say about it. I hoped you liked it.

_Next chapter…_

Welcome to Kaiba-Corp, how may we help you today? … … … Oh no, I'm sorry, right now Mr. Kaiba is busy yelling at people because his offer didn't go through. However, we may be able to schedule you in for 2 'o clock sometime in the next year…. …. …. Hmm… What's that? Resurrecting the dead? I'm sorry. Although we offer many services, I don't believe that's one of them… … … Okay, I wish you luck with that. :3


	2. Revive

Second chapter at last. I got this one proofread. Umm... Anyway, things are starting to pick up. School is killing me. KILLING ME I SAY! cough Oh and please excuse the rebels in this chapter. Them and K+ don't mix that's why it's been censored.

Starting today... And the days before that, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

:-:oOo:-:

"In other news, the valuable Karnic Gem is still missing from the Domino Museum. Police have been busy searching for clues but so far-"

"I don't want your crap, Fuji. I want to know why the offer didn't go through."

"- The robbery took place Monday at 3:21...several hours and… the whereabouts of the perpetrator are-"

"What!? Listen here! If we can get that offer to pull through, we can rake up to an extra 15 million. You hear that, Fuji?"

"-is worth thousands of dollars and rumored by the ancients to have the ability to-"

"I don't care! Either you're finding a way for that offer to go through or you will be finding a new job!" CLACK! "Grr..."

"If you have knowledge on the whereabouts of this artifact, please call..."

Mokuba's eyes peeled themselves off of the television for a minute to see the vicious raptor his brother had become. It had only taken one minor thing to go wrong for the whole volcano of his brother's temper to erupt and burn everything in its path. From the time of the phone call during the ride home, inky black clouds quickly started covering the sky. As the sky darkened so did Seto's mood. And now, Seto was boiling angry. It wasn't surprising, Mokuba thought, that asking for a day of relaxation and fun was a death wish once again. An old pattern was once again repeating itself. Seto's temper could ruin any hopes for a pleasant outing in a second, just like snow vaporizes under hot lava.

The CEO went back to his computer, obviously trying to get his mind on something else, but it was hard to remove the ugly expression of scorn from his face. He sat stiffly for a bit, typing who knew what, and then absent-mindedly rubbing the touch pad in between the tapping entries. It wasn't long before Seto glanced at his brother and caught on to Mokuba's concern. "What?" Seto snapped, anger controlling him.

"Ah, nothing..." the preteen said quickly, looking away guiltily. In response, the ball of fury sizzled, letting out a tired groan and leaning forth on the desk to rub his temples. A headache was starting to take its toll as punishment for his rage.

"Tell Woodwill to get some Tylenol, would you..." His tone was softer this time, but it was only the frustration had shriveled into exhaustion.

"Sure thing, big bro," Mokuba assured him, hopping off the couch. Despite Seto's lash-out and overall coldness, the boy couldn't help but forgive him. Even during the times that he was really nasty, and they were relatively often, the boy would always see an excuse for it. His reasons being, well, that he still believed there was a good side to his big brother, he knew it. He had seen it firsthand in the days they lived in the orphanage. Back then Seto wasn't a corporate bigot who put people down because they didn't meet his standards. He was a guardian, a valiant hero and an idol. To a degree he still was today… but it was his niceness and social acceptance of others that he had buried, and buried deep. At times, it was these forgotten emotions that Mokuba missed the most.

The preteen made haste finding the butler, and it wasn't long before he located him at his usual spot in the entry. After taking care of Seto's message, Mokuba was soon on his way back, not knowing there was a slight surprise waiting for him in the hallway. The teenager that had sent him off was already heading down the hallway.

"Huh? Seto?" Mokuba questioned.

"I'm going to bed..." was the calm response he got.

"But it's only..."

"What? Am I not allowed to go to bed before 11:00?"

"No. It's just... odd... and I told Woodwill to get some Tyenol..."

"He can drop it by my bedroom." With that the CEO continued down the hall, but left one last reminder before opening the door to his bedroom, "And please don't stay up." The door latch clicked softly and the boy was out in the hallway, alone.

The little brother started back to the office again, where the TV was still buzzing, and as he walked, thoughts came up. They were the ones that Seto forbid.

:-:oOo:-:

What a wondrous haze that was taking place outside, a clash of black and white, dark and light. Powdery snakes curled and looped as the wind pulled them through a black abyss. As they flew wildly through the air, the flakes that made up their body fell into a white carpet below, only to be replaced by new ones from the heavens. However, no matter how hard the wind blew, no matter what was moving in a 3-mile radius, it was as silent as the grave. This was good. This was very good for the silhouette holding back the wind's impatience. Like a lone phantom he glided over the snow, not even letting muffled crunches out of his steps. As he moved, his glittered black trench coat trashed about in the wind, but not even it's flapping made a sound.

Finally, the persona stopped, looking up at an intricately designed wrought-iron mesh connecting two stone pillars at the top. Black vines and roses wove around each other, caressing each other but frozen cold by winter's breath. Only did they care enough to give leeway to two lines of letters.

'BLOSSOM'S FIELD CEMETARY'

'Wishes to those for eternal peace'

The man covered his mouth with a gloved hand to release a cough, then slipped in between the pillars into the sanctuary.

It was a lonely place but ironic considering that at one point in time, each grave was a living person. All around the guest, as he followed the salted brick path, there was what used to be knowledge, what used to be stories and tales, and what used to be love and care. If each person in that cemetery were still animated, still talking and laughing, it would have been similar to a late night social festivity. But sadly, death didn't work in such a way, and the place was lonely. The only thing that could greet the man here, were blocks of stone, capped with snow.

The stranger looked around, two malevolent grey eyes scratching the tip of every grave. He was searching. "Where is he…?" he muttered under a gray scarf. His feet led him through the rows and columns of the forgotten, relentless and untiring. Only until he saw something remotely like his goal, did he take time to get a better view. However, he was dismayed by the duds, and forced to continue his search.

The man then branched out into a small subdivision of the cemetery. Only thirty graves awaited him here, and all of them gazed piercingly into his soul. This did not scare him, however. He began the routine again, row after row, column after column, until his heart skipped a beat at the wanted name. He sped silently over to a particularly fancy marble headstone. It's expensive carving was frosted by the wind and like it neighbors, it was covered in snow. This was the grave, this was the person, that the phantom was looking for.

He grinned a sinister grin, looking over the headstone. "Well, well, old man… You don't look so good…" The headstone of course, didn't answer him, and the stranger proceeded. "Don't worry, I'm going to give you something special. Something you'll be grateful for. Something so special you'll be thanking me in riches." With that, he reached into the deep pocket of his coat and pulled out a black balled up wad of cloth. Quickly, he began to unravel it. Before long, a multicolored gem was shimmering in the center of his palm. It was a small thing, not much bigger than his thumb and jagged, yet the importance it held to the man made him treat it with much dignity. Out of his opposite pocket he brought out ten pieces of silver metal, the pieces of a stand. With these parts, he knelt over and began his work. For five minutes, pieces clicked and fitted, rotated and meshed, until the grand result met his eyes.

With the most tedious part over, he opened his eyes and ears for unwelcome spies. Realizing there was none, he finalized his project. Carefully, he fed the gem into a small indent of the stand and backed up several feet to overlook his work. Everything was in order. He reached into his pocket again and this time, brought out a lock of black hair. He held it out away from him, as far as his arm would let him, and began to whisper in a language long forgotten.

"Rise…" he uttered and the lock fell into the snow. For a minute he stood there, waiting for a response. Nothing happened. He looked around then went to observe his work. The man bent next to the stand, checking its positioning. He plucked out the gem from its seat and rotated it, "This can't be a fake can it?… The spell… No, I've rehearsed it perfectly for years… Grr… WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG!" He gave the stand a rough kick and watched it shatter back into the ten pieces it started as. "DAMN IT!" His breath threw flames over the mess for small while, but within seconds he had himself calmed down. "Alright… just try again…"

Once again the man recreated the stand, placed the stone, repeated the chant, and dropped the lock of hair. Still, once again, nothing happened, and a stream of curses fled from his mouth. He clenched his fist and readied an assault on the innocent stand, but then voices came. The man froze, and whipped his head like a deer caught in a headlight. They echoed in the distance…

"Yeah, my dad is a loser. I came home with another F the other day and he just-"

"-- man. Did you take that permanent marker when he-"

"-yeah… He's gonna be sore tomorrow, but who cares-"

They were kids… A group of punks by the sound of it. The man calmed down. It wasn't the police, but he knew it was time to leave. Hastily, he broke up the stand and returned the parts to the shelter of his pockets. The lock of hair and gem joined them soon after, and in the ghostly way he entered the cemetery, he left it. Now the boys could enjoy themselves without the threat of witnessing something they weren't supposed to.

:-:oOo:-:

By the end of the hour, the snowfall had calmed and the adolescent boys invading the cemetery had enjoyed their share of late 'fun' time. Still, although the clock was on the brink of striking twelve, a pack of cigarettes had already been passed around. All four boys held a joint between their fingers, which they pulled to their lips relatively often. Through their crude conversations they took turns letting loose suffocating breaths of smoke. These were not to be mistaken for the cold.

"Man, you know what would be cool? If that -- just burned down. Won't have to worry about no -- teachers telling us what to do and giving us bad grades just because we don't want to be _'contributing member's _of society?_'_"

"What society? The ghettos? Meh, teachers are lame… Don't bother even trying to listen to them. Especially that Mr. Gart-u-gis or whatever the hell his name is."

"Hey, Harley! Give me another joint will you?"

"No! Get your own! I just gave you one 2 minutes ago!"

"Come on Har, don't be an --. Give him another joint!"

"You think cigs grow on trees? I had to swipe this from my dad's drawer when he was passed out on the couch."

"Oh? And how often does your dad pass out again? It's a rare occasion isn't it, --."

"Hey, shut the -- up!"

Finally the clock struck twelve and the boys were silenced by a beeping coming from the tallest one's watch. "Midnight already?" he asked, pulling up his watch.

"We're not going home so I don't see why you should worry about…" his friend started but trailed off, as he caught sight of something unusual in the distance. A light was shimmering far off in the distance.

"Huh? Hey, what's up with that?"

"Dunno. Come on, let's check it out."

"No way dude, we could get caught."

"Don't be a pussy. Just a quick look." The four boys with curiosity beckoning them, threw their burning cigarettes to the ground and started creeping to the light. Each took a place behind their own tree, their own headstone, but they were all heading in the same direction. Once close enough, the sight they saw baffled them. The orb of light that drew them like moths had no body. There was no flashlight, no reflection. It was simply a peculiar floating orb, shedding glitter over one of the graves. Out of this sight, the boys exchanged glances at each other. Each wore their own puzzled and stunned expression.

The leader of the group, feeling a bit braver than the others, stepped forward from behind his hiding spot to get a better look at the ball of light. That's not to say he wasn't a bit nervous about what this thing would do to him. His head constantly jerked back to the others, searching for backup but finding none. In the end, he could only move forward, one foot ahead of the other. After much hesitation, he succeeded in a distance ten feet from the object. It was frightening for him to stick his toe for another step, but he did it. That's when the orb burst into a glittery frenzy. It sparked like a wild firecracker without popping or cracking, and the 'bold' teenager started to freak out. Quickly, he whipped around, trying to escape, but without perfectly matching his feet to his escape plan, the boy soon found himself yelling, face-down in the snow.

Now the orb was beginning to transform. Through the sparks, it stretched and sculpted itself. Limbs sprouted from its points and detailed themselves to resemble slender arms and legs. Soon after, a sphere appeared on its shoulders and began to shape itself to have the face of a beautiful young lady. The formation of waist and figure squeezed and expanded, and at last the piece of art was finished. The stunned boys watched as the glowing silhouette of the women fell to the ground. Finally, her radiance began to vanish, and she was left stumbling as a mere mortal in a lush dress.

The woman was gorgeous although a bit lanky, and bushy brown hair descended down her back, going as far as her elbows. The silk dress she wore shined a pastel blue, and was decorated with all kinds of fancy embroidery. There to compliment it, was a gold gemstone necklace and a small shimmering wedding band set on her finger.

She opened her gray eyes to the new world that watched her, and her mouth opened to speak the first words that came into her mind. "What the…? Wh-Where the heck am I!?" Not long after, she noticed the whimpering teenage boy on the ground before her. It was the ever brave rebel who, clad in black leather, was still in the process of fleeing… and soiling his pants. "Huh? Hey! Hey! Wait! What's-"

"GHOST!! RUN FOR IT!! IT'S A FLIPPING GHOST!!" The rebel cried out, as he finally found a way back onto his feet and sped off into the chilly night. The other three took no time to hesitate, not even for the confused calls of the woman. Giving up their hiding spots one-by-one, they each vanished after their leader and ran to the sanctity of home.

"HEY!! WAIT!! Come back! What do you mean ghost!?" the lady cried out, lurching after but not bothering to chase them. Once their screams and swearing disappeared, she stood up straight again, and her arms wrapped around her bosom. Darn, it was so freezing. Why was she wearing a dress of all things in this kind of weather? Why was she in this weather to begin with. Nothing made sense. "Where am I…? Is this some kind of dream?" she asked, but there was nobody to answer her.

Her attention wandered for explanation, tossing her head back, forth, left, and right. There was nobody in sight from what she could see, and nobody to help her. Thus, she knew that the only person to answer her questions was herself. She recollected. What as the last thing she remembered? A sick feeling overcame her as she instinctually grabbed her stomach. "N-No…" Her eyes looked over the graves and headstones, and she shivered as the coldness was allowed to slip in. "Okay… Okay… This is just a dream… Don't panic…" She rubbed her arms, and sent out a call. "HELLO! Is anybody out there…!?" Her voice went without a reply. "I could use some help!" Like the first time, there was nothing to reassure her. There was only one thing to do now. If nobody was going to help her, she was going to have to help herself. She needed shelter.

The lonely woman followed the brick pathway to the edge of the cemetery. All the while, the sight of frozen gravestones continued to hammer fear and uneasiness in her heart. She felt like collapsing and crying, but the sound of her own chanting voice guided her onward. Logic had to remind her that warmth and shelter were her needs right now. If she obtained those, then she would be allowed to sit down and let her lost and helpless emotions out. Nevertheless, it was still very tempting to just break down right there and now. She was lost, confused, and there wasn't anybody to console her. The lady wanted her husband, she wanted her little boy. She wanted them to pop out from behind a tree and tell her everything was okay, that this was some sort of practical joke, a dream. She wanted this so badly that her eyes squinted, as though expecting to see them through the shadows cast by the moon. Sadly, in the end, her only savior was the two pillars leading out of the cemetery.

Highly disappointed, but not surprised, the woman accepted this fate with all its confusion and fear. Before she left though, a single last look over her shoulder was called for. The trees, the loneliness of death, it was all staring at her back now. Her throat swallowed and she took a deep breath. Despite this shock, she had to toughen up. Her family was waiting for her at home. They should be waiting for her at home. She started onto the sidewalk.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

A masculine scream shattered her bones. It was the most horrendous scream she had ever heard. The octaves, the pitch, they were from the ones that had been embedded in her memory for life, and she knew exactly who they belonged to.

"Daichi? DAICHI!!" she called back. All her loneliness and confusion were thrown into the back of her mind as a new direction was set for her. She raced back into the cemetery and on brick and ice, she ran. No longer did she permit the gravestones to torment her, for she had to save her hubby.

:-:oOo:-:

Next Chapter...

Err... You know what. I'm feeling evil today, so I'm leave you with a cliffhanger. Kthanxbye!


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